The Doctor and His Oracle
by Magdelena Sforza
Summary: A crash landing in Gotham leaves the Doctor in the company of one Barbara Gordon. How could this adventure play out for him?
1. Blue Nights in Gotham

Hey guys! So before you start, I need you guys to know that **I am not a Whovian.**But I got this idea and I **had** to do it, so I'm sorry. I got a lot of help from my friend Daniel, who is also test reading my chapters to make sure I get the Doctor spot on. Thanks for reading guys, reviews would be appreciated :)

* * *

Barbara Gordon sat at her desk, eyes glued to the final page of her favourite novel, "The Hound of the Baskervilles".  
_"Might I trouble you then to be ready in half an hour, and we can stop at Marcini's for a little dinner on the way?"_

She let out a short sigh, snapping the book shut with a small clap. She felt a small draft hit her shoulder, slipping through her thin pyjamas, sending shivers down her spine, and sending small hairs to tickle her face. She pushed them back over her ear, glancing out the window. Was Nightwing out there tonight? She shook her head. She had to stop thinking of him. She wasn't his anymore, nor was he hers.  
Yet every morning she woke up, she wondered what he was doing, and every night, she worried as to how he was fairing in the cruel underworld. She missed him. Unbearably. But she knew he could have someone better now. Someone more compatable. She pushed the stiff wheels of her chair towards her bed, locking them and sighing once again, more happily this time.

Bed was one of those places she felt independant. It was a small thing that didn't change after her...accident. Since she had lost her ability to walk, things with Dick had gone...downhill. She felt completely unable to relate anymore.  
She wasn't the gymnastic, strong, elegant Batgirl she once was.  
She was Oracle now.  
No gymnastics. No strength. Maybe a little bit of elegance. As much as can come from her permanently seated position, at least. Dick had been supportive at first, constantly attempting to help her in any way he could. But it kind of...stopped. She began to realize how incompatable they were.  
He was a high flying hero.

She was a human library.

It wasn't the same. She couldn't even show herself off to him anymore. It was too difficult. She tried sometimes, wearing outfits that showed off her assets, but he never paid attention. She assumed he had found someone else. Someone more intelligent, more compatable, more understanding, more _beautiful._  
That had become a huge part of her life. Not only was she lost without him. She felt hideous. She watched her former co-heroes and saw them in a new light, that ignored all their battle scars and imperfections. She didn't see them.

All she saw was her own.

The way her glasses dug into the bridge of her nose, how one brow arched a little more than the other, her permanent look of concentration, her complexion, even her _weight_ had begun to bug her. She didn't feel like the curvy, beautiful, appealing bat she once was.

She felt like a lump of stress, fear, angst and _ugly._ She wasn't sure how she sould deal with it. So she just didn't. She ignored it, focused on her work, read in her alone time and avoided mirrors as much as she could.

She pushed herself up delicately as possible, trying not to hurt herself. She moved herself across to her bed, allowing herself to flop back, stretching her upper body and closing her eyes tight. It was a chilly night, one that deserved company. She pulled her weight up her double bed, as far as her pillow, before relaxing once again. She took off her glasses and folded them carefully. She felt the quiet lull of sleep come to her quickly, and she nodded off faster than she had in a long time.

She woke up, wide awake faster than she'd care to admit, remaining still. She heard something.  
No.  
Someone.  
She knew not to move. She had to wait. She saw the lights flicker through her closed lids. She heard shuffling, the sound of whispers. Hurried nonsense. She felt around slowly underneath her pillow. She knew better than to sleep without protection. She felt the tazer and clutched it.  
"Why here? Why now? I don't know! What's wrong? Bugger!"  
She heard a man, a British man.  
Penguin?  
No, he wasn't as elegant.  
"Wait, "bugger"? Did I really just say "bugger"?!" Was "cor" or "blimey" or even "bloody hell" too obvious for me!" She heard shuffling, presumably as he turned around. "Oh, I like this room.."  
No one else came to mind. She turned slightly, opening her eyes just a little bit, enough to be able to see from the corner of her eye.  
It was a man. His back was to her, all she could make out was a suit, a sandy brown, and dark brown hair. And then she spotted what she should have noticed first.  
Nestled by her window, clear as day.  
A very large, very _blue_ Police box.


	2. What Can Be Fixed

This must be the fastest I've ever updated anything! :L But I'm really loving this story. This was beta'd by my friend Sam, if you notice any problems, please tell me :) Enjoy guys!

* * *

Barbara began to panic. Why was there a _phone box _in her bedroom? Why was there a British man with a potential mental disorder in her bedroom? And why wasn't she reacting?

She began to stir, trying to aim the taser at him as discreetly as possible. _To hell with it! _She sat up as quickly as she could, aiming it directly at his upper body. "Don't. Move." She growled through gritted teeth as he turned.  
"What is _that?_" he stepped forward, Babs' jaw dropped.  
_That's it, he's crazy.  
_  
"I've never seen that one before...Can I hold it? Oh, where are my manners, I'm very sorry you had to hear that, bit of a fright there! You'd think 900 years of travelling time and space would help me flesh out my vocabulary.." he shrugged "but hey, there you have it! By the way, I like your room!"  
He glanced around the small bedroom, taking in all the details. The three visible duck egg blue walls held photos of old friends and class mates, charity events with her parents and one old photo of her brother. The final wall was lined with book shelves holding all kinds of variety, ranging from teenage fiction all the way to books on psychology and famous criminals.

Her desk sat behind her door, holding her computer and a mess of college work. Adjacent to this, her bed sat under the window, giving enough room for her to maneuver in and out of her room with her chair when needed, and her bedside locker held only a small lamp and a black domino mask, a constant reminder of her days as Batgirl. He looked around, apparently amazed by the room. Then it hit her.

"Wait, 900 years?!" She struggled to keep her voice down. Her father was still working, but her mother was asleep.  
"Yeah. Long time really, but some cool stuff happens." He was still glancing around, seemingly enthralled by her room alone. He strolled to the bookshelf, silent for the first time as he read the titles. Babs took the opportunity to begin to push her bed covers off, put on her glasses and pull herself from her bed onto her chair. The strange man turned in time to see this, and his expression changed. It softened, not to one of pity, but to one of pure, untainted sadness.

She watched him walk to her slowly as she made it into her chair, and he crouched in front of her, close enough that she could make out smaller details of him as she pulled her long, fiery red hair into a ponytail. His brown hair swept off to the side as the tips of his fringe almost brushed against his high cheek bones. His nose was wide and strong and his jawline was defined.  
"What happened to you?"  
His grey eyes locked onto her blue ones as she struggled to answer his question.  
"That..." She pushed her glasses up her nose.  
"That is a long story." She shook her head "Who are you, exactly?" He smiled at her question.

"Well...I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor...what exactly?"

"Just the Doctor. Say, what's this thing?" He picked up the domino mask that sat at her bedside and turned it over in his hands.

"Wait, just Doctor?" she took the mask from his hand, forcing him to look up at her. "Don't you have a name?"

He smiled at her again.  
"Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it? Hey, is that Holmes you're reading" She nodded slowly, utterly confused by this man. "Great man, Doyle. Taught me everything I know about eggs, you know!"  
"Eggs?" It was Babs' turn to smile.  
"Yeah! He ate two every morning, insisted it was where his ideas came from. Mind you, I wouldn't have been surprised if he was a bit of a Sherlock on the side, he knew far too much about that side of things. Also, sorry about springing this all on you like this."  
He waved back towards the Police box.  
"I'm usually a little more careful, but the old girl has seen better days. Or Centuries. We were in Victorian London just yesterday, and let me tell you, she worked like a beauty!"  
He shook his head and walked over, patting the...no, _her_ front door.

"Wait, centuries? What is it, some kind of...time machine?" Babs wheeled after him, curious to see what might be inside.

"That..." he turned to face her, a smile still playing on his lips "...is exactly it. Where are my manners, you asked my name, I told you nothing, and I forgot to ask yours."  
He attempted to open the door.  
"I'm Barbara Gordon." she said blankly, watching his activity closely, as he fiddled with the machine.

"Cool, can I call you Barb? Barb is good, right?" He turned around, his smile still glued.

"Uh, I'd prefer Babs." "Alright, Babs! It was fun meeting you, but I've to be off, things to do, planets to travel to, you know, the usual for a Friday night!" He waved and turned, about to enter the police box.

"Wait, you show up in my room in the middle of the night in a time machine, tell me you're 900 years old and have met Arthur Conan Doyle, that you were in Victorian London yesterday, and you're just going to leave?" She was hoping to know more about this crazy stranger.

"Well I have to." his face changed, his eyes widened and his mouth opened a bit.

"You never did tell me what happened to you." She felt her jaw drop a little.

"Well...you never told me your name!" She couldn't think right around this man. Suddenly, his face lit up.

"What if I could fix you?"


End file.
